


The Song of the Verdant Wind | Claude von Riegan

by Myakavi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude being loving bc i think he really is tbh, Claudeleth, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Fire emblem drabbles, I promise you they'll just get better, I update every once in awhile, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21984013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myakavi/pseuds/Myakavi
Summary: Welcome to my collection of One-Shots and small drabble things about Claude von Riegan ranging from fluff to angst to... other things (but, although some of these are rather intimate and implied, there won't be any smut. Nothing graphic/descriptive)I'm open to ideas, prompts, and AUs, and feedback is great to hear :) it motivates me a lot.Have fun I guess !!!!!!
Relationships: Claude von Riegan/Reader, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	1. Miss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude finds work with Almyra to be unbearably lonely when you aren't around
> 
> Word Count: 327

He misses you.

He misses the way your fingers intertwine with his, and he brings your hand up to his lips; he misses the way you blush and glance away whenever he surprises you with a kiss on your nose; he misses the way that you're always there even when you aren't, and when you are he can expect a loving welcome in the form of your face buried into his chest and your arms tight around his torso. 

There's nothing more beautiful to him than your presence. It's a gift that he does not take for granted, and he yearns for every moment he does not have it. Especially in moments such as now.

Foreign affairs have always burdened him, merely because you could not always be there to accompany. There are times, although few, where he has to go forward in solitude, where he has to spend a few nights in cold, foreign bedsheets, without you within his arms to keep him warm and wordlessly remind him why he does it all. 

And on those nights where he stares up at a ceiling that is not his own, he replays every memory of you in his mind. He imagines your figure which he thought he had memorized years ago, back in the days of Garreg Mach—only to be proven wrong the first time you laid with him, where he ran his hands over your skin breathlessly, desperately, unwilling to ever let you go. You were a piece of art that nobody would grow to know, understand, and love more than he does. But he is glad with that, and wouldn't have it any other way.

He misses you. He misses you every moment of the day and every moment of the night. He misses you every time something makes him smile or reminds him of yours. But he misses you now more than ever.

Soon he will be home, he knows. 

Wait for me. 


	2. Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short simple fluff with Claude during tea time
> 
> Word count: 266

Claude sits at the table, chin propped up in one of his hands. He wears an expression of relaxation; however, you know that his mind isn't at rest, revealed by the hints of a daydream that tug his lips upward. His eyes are half lidded and gleam in satisfaction.

"What're you thinking about that has you looking so smug?" You ask, sitting down across from him. He glances up, smoothly withdrawing from his imagination with a smile that does not falter.

"Come here."

"What?"

He leans in, elbows on the table and gaze set curiously on your lips. His eyebrows seem to furrow slightly, and if you were any more flustered you wouldn't have caught the way he briefly runs his tongue over his lips. Then, ever so slightly, he tilts his head. "I wonder if your lips taste like honey."

A hot flush blazes its way to your cheeks. "Like honey? Why would–why would they taste like–like—"

It was then.

Then is when time froze, holding you in a moment you can't run away from; because the way his gaze finally flicks up from your lips to your eyes looks so determined and captivating, utterly captivating, that even though you want to throw your hands in front of your face to hide the searing blush you can't do anything but stare back. You can't process a thing until all you know is the way your eyelids flutter closed and against your lips presses something soft, something warm, something that you will never get enough of.

Then, his laugh.

"I knew I was right."


	3. Time (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly married Claude and Byleth haven't done it yet
> 
> Claude wants to change that
> 
> Word count: 334

The silhouette of a man leans against the doorway if your bedroom; although his features are invisible–etched in black against the warm glow of the fireplace–you know exactly who it is.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asks. He lifts himself from where he once leaned and steps out of the shadows. The golden lighting of your candle meets his skin and glazes his skin, his physique, his angles, in a view that is nothing short of breathtaking. He stops, hands in his pockets. "You've been sitting there at the desk for hours now, working yourself to death. Don't you think it's time you-"

The sentence snaps in half and leave words dangling over a sea of ambiguity. He speaks as though his desire is for you to take a break and come to bed with him, but something... 

Something else is there. Something about the way he stands above you but keeps his distance. Something about the way he looks at you, like someone who is cursed to keep away by chains and locks forged of hesitance while all he desires is to be close to you, to hold you, to touch you, to run his hands through your hair and feel every inch of your burning skin under his palms and his fingers and his lips–

His gaze had turned away, occupying his thoughts with something upon the floor. A distraction, anything to fight away the rush of blood that brings heat to his skin, redness to his cheeks, and stiffness to his muscles. For some reason he feels like it is wrong to wish to indulge in you like this. He worries that perhaps he is too imposing, but the conflict within him is beginning to grow too unbearable for him to keep sitting, guessing, lying in bed each night wondering if his desires will ever be fulfilled.

"Don't you think..." he breathes, the shakiness of his words betraying the feelings of asphyxia he tries to mask, "it's time?"


	4. Time (Part 2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place as a continuation of what happened in Time 1/2, but in a different plac (sauna this time oops). I know it doesn't add up at all but it kind of just vibed this way and it had to be 😳 I hope that's okay with y'all 
> 
> Word count: 518

It began with Claude eyeing you in a way that you had never witnessed before. A look of desire, of intimacy, a look that he had reserved for you alone; a secret, longing gaze that was now brought forth for you to witness here in the sauna when nobody else remained. 

It began with him sitting beside you; his hair falls down in slick mahogany ribbons over his face; his cheeks, ears, and nose burn brightly under beads of sweat that slide down his sun-bronzed skin; his hand leaves its place at his side and reaches up to your face to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. Eye contact. A smile that has passed the stage of bashfullness. A smooth movement of his body and a tilt of his jaw to begin gently, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You feel his nose against your face as he remains there for a moment. The tickle of his closed eyelashes. The warmth. Then, the pull of his lips in a smile against your skin. It radiates enough love to draw you to him like a magnet—your body turns to face him and your hands are holding the sides of his face, and the kiss has only broken so that your foreheads could touch. 

"I love you." He murmurs. You feel the words more than hear them; the vibration in his chest, his heartbeat. 

"I love you, too," you return, finding that your longing gaze has come to match his own.

That is how is began. But it continued with the distance being closed, your warm lips pressing against each other in a kiss that begins gently but slowly crescendos in intensity; his hands taking hold of you, grazing over your skin with a desperation that can be assimilated to a dehydrated man reaching for water; a quick break in the kiss, in which he gasps "Can I?", and when you respond with a quick hum, you feel him slip the towel from around your body.

That is how it continued. The night of first times that the two of you had imagined a million times before, but whose fantasies paled in comparison; the night where the two of you fought to catch your breath but refused to stop, refused to let go; the night where you first heard him say your name _that way,_ and in spite of the heat you felt chills.

The night where you truly became his, and he truly became yours, and nothing else mattered.

But that isn't how it ended, for if anything, it is best to say that it never ended. Such was only the beginning.

But in terms of that night alone, it concluded with a kiss on your brow. The both of you fatigued by heat and exertion, Claude wrapped your body in a towel once again, taking you up in his arms and carrying you through the night. A night that belonged to none other than yourselves, taken back to your shared room with whispers and loving reminders that neither would ever let the other go.


End file.
